Wednesday, November 23, 2016

Robert the Telepathic Gila Monster has been attacked!

Alarming news! After I released Robert's dour Thanksgiving message (next post), I walked into the desert night and thought I saw a strange comet, which then appeared
to be an airplane. As I watched the descending light I received a
frantic telepathic message, accompanied with lots of static and some
interference that sounded like muffled yelling. Finally I made out
Robert's "voice" (thoughts have distinctive qualities, as voices do),
screaming (a high intensity thought) something like, "They're attacking
me...fellow gilas...bastards!"

There followed a terrible sound of
anguish, and I feared Robert was no more. But it turned out he had done
the damage to one of his attackers, giving Robert a short respite and time to
clarify his message:

"Harry, we’re in trouble!
Gilas are able to group together for common cause on rare occasions
when it's necessary. We haven't done it since the end of the last ice
age, when we had to make some decisions. In reaction to encroaching human
civilization, we've grouped together again into something humans might call a
‘council.’ The council has factions, and one of them believes that my
relationship with you, my willingness to engage telepathically, my public sharing of the gila's internal world- that these things are endangering all
gilas, so that humans, upon learning of another sentient species on the
planet, will reenact their historic role of ensuring its extinction."

"Jesus, Robert!"

"As usual, Harry, with the bon
mot. If I may continue, the anti-human faction has plotted to abduct me
so that I can no longer communicate with you or any humans."

"Shit."

"Again, Harry, the human facility
with language is astonishing."

"I mean, damn...what will you do?
What should I do?"

"There's more, and I'm learning it
as we speak...oh my!"

"What?"

It's really true that when the gods
want to punish us they grant our wishes. I admit I've longed for release
from the dreadful constriction of this post-election time, when everyone's mind
is confined in a probability box where all is potential, nothing is realized.
I've yearned to be released from the box, to unfurl my compressed emotions, not knowing if they will deliver unbridled ecstasy, warm joy, bemused
contempt, indifference, confusion, rage or despair. I knew that Robert
was about to open the box.

"A forceful gila," Harry continued, "whom I'll
call Butch, organized the attempted hit on me. Butch tells his followers
that humans with their volatility and apparent suicidal tendencies have become
an imminent threat to the gila species, and that I am a traitor. He has
organized telepathic attacks on America, as the closest human target, over your holiday season."

"Oh my god! What kind of attacks?"

"Hallucinations, not unlike your 'fake news.' The few stray gila thoughts I've intercepted indicate they intend to stimulate discord between people who are close, so that someone might be talking to a family member or friend and suddenly be filled with fury and resentment towards them. If this happens, people should remove themselves from the scene, breathe deeply for a few minutes and rise above it.

Robert's thoughts ceased, and I waited
breathlessly.

Robert resumed his report: "Harry, thank god I can hack
through Butch's firewall...he's communicating with your MIC...."

"Ok, well the gila monster nation,
if I may call it that, has contacted your MIC...they are communicating at this
moment."

"Can you pick-up any of it?"

"Just bits. The TU is very interested in the gila method of sowing discord. The gilas want to
conduct an action tomorrow, using the holiday...they argue that humans will be
unsuspecting and vulnerable, many travelling far from home...the MIC
responds that high profile attacks on Thanksgiving would incite too much emotion, too much
blood-lust for their current timetable."

"Hold on Robert! What sort
of alliance is this? What can a bunch of gila monsters offer the MIC? And what does Butch suppose the MIC can do for gilas?"

"Believe me, I'd like to know that
too! Part of it has to do with gilas' telepathic abilities, which the MIC would like to develop in humans, for military purposes.What do you think your MIC ultimately wants?"

I answered, "The MIC seeks to
betray the middle and lower socio-economic classes because they will not fit
into the automated, jobless and bioengineered society to come. The
superannuated humans are to be led into a global conflict in which they will be
preoccupied with staying alive, and thus not able to complain that the new human race, which historian Yuval Harrari calls Homo Deus, will
not include them. But I'm wondering what the gila monsters hope to get from this alliance."

"Harry, you and your readers will
have to wait for answers until I can infiltrate further. Meanwhile…I'm
picking up a consensus...the gilas have agreed to a low profile with tomorrow's
telepathic disruptions, and the MIC agrees to some of Butch's ideas (e.g. at
selected homes, just as the turkey is being carved, the carver and all the
guests will hallucinate that the turkey becomes a living gila monster who grins and says, 'Who's human now?'). Though the MIC will benefit from general
confusion and mayhem spread by gilas, it reserves the big blow-ups for
itself. Harry, you and I are in the same boat, each fighting for the soul
of his species!"